This morning I woke up with a big "headache" (all attached to give a better idea), fragmented memories of absurd dreams, his mouth mixed by too many cigarettes smoked yesterday (from this I would have already have understood my condition the day), the scar under the lip sore after years of silent coexistence. Around me glasses of wine, residues sushi, bottles, a mess.
As usual I get up, try to tame your hair and go to the bathroom, then into the kitchen to prepare a healthy coffee. While I wait I get back in the room, I open the window, turn on the computer, buried by a frenzy of sheets and other things. When I sit down, I turn to the right (while I was gone to get coffee in my cup and poured thick) and in an attempt to take the cup so you want my eyes wander over a bowl BEIJE (do not know if you write so I admit ). Beautiful, glossy, with something in it, purple, small and quiet. The plums. I would have photographed. But I do not think twice and I've got one of them was already in my mouth. That's where I remembered. For Who I'd bought, Who was eating at my place yesterday, who had left them there. And I felt really shitty. Indeed this was a millisecond later. I must say that I ate with gusto, while I felt like shit. And the more I ate more memories from the night before re-emerge with force, shoving, angrily.
After the coffee, I fixed some of the residues groceries around me. I went to the bathroom and I said to myself: "Are you fool!"
Now I am here to write, with an ashtray shaped like a fish in front of me full of cigarette butts and stones Plum, my legs hurt, a delirium of things to do, a desire and a certainty: love.
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